


holiday sweater

by Springsteen



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas, Crack, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 04:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12951795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springsteen/pseuds/Springsteen
Summary: Every day this month, Tyson had shown up to practice wearing a different Christmas sweater. Gabe was starting to think he must have an entire closet full of them, and also that he might actually be losing his mind, to think that they looked sort of good on him.





	holiday sweater

**Author's Note:**

> I really have nothing to say for myself except [this video](http://brandonesutter.tumblr.com/post/168238178657/in-which-tyson-barrie-is-a-ridiculous-human-being) has ruined me, and also I can't get the San Jose Sharks' classic "Holiday Sweater" out of my head.

Gabe had to admire Tyson’s boundless enthusiasm, but this was getting ridiculous. “Do you own every hideous sweater in the world?”

Tyson scoffed. “Look, Landesnerd, just because you can’t recognize an amazing sense of style when you see it doesn’t mean I don’t have one,” he said, stretching the hem of his garish red sweater so he could admire the giant gingerbread man on it. It was _sparkly_ , for fuck’s sake.

“Uh huh,” he said skeptically. “It’s a sense of something, all right.” Every day this month, Tyson had shown up to practice wearing a different Christmas sweater. Gabe was starting to think he must have an entire closet full of them, or maybe a whole room at this point. He hadn’t worn one to any games yet, but he had a feeling it was only a matter of time. If Tyson showed up wearing one of those godawful holiday-patterned suits, he might actually die. There was little Tyson wouldn’t do for attention, and Gabe hated how endearing he found it. 

“It’s okay to be jealous, Landy,” Tyson said, basically stroking his chest now. 

“Oh my god,” Gabe muttered. 

“Wow, Brutes,” Nate said as he walked into the locker room. “You actually gonna wear that for practice?” Tyson turned to Gabe, a stupidly bright smile on his face, like Gabe had any say in what Tyson could wear for practice.

“No,” he said flatly. Tyson deflated, shoulders sagging. He immediately yanked the sweater over his head and started to change for practice. At least he hadn’t bullied everyone into listening to Christmas music yet. Gabe liked the holidays well enough, but he could only handle so much general Christmas cheer before it got overwhelming and annoying. 

Practices have been going well, and even though they weren’t winning every game, it felt really good to not be losing every one. Gabe didn’t know why he was surprised when Tyson showed up to practice on the road wearing more holiday sweaters. 

“Aren’t you hot?” Gabe asked incredulously when Tyson showed up to practice in Florida wearing a green monstrosity patterned with festive cats. 

Tyson grinned. “Nice of you to notice, babe,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at him. Gabe nearly smacked himself in the forehead; he really should’ve seen that one coming.

“Seriously, T-Bear, how are you not sweating through that thing,” EJ asked. “It’s like ninety degrees out there.” He plucked at the collar of Tyson’s sweater, like he expected him to be dripping with sweat underneath. 

“Come on, you know my swag keeps me cool,” Tyson said, holding his fist out to Nate for a fist bump. Nate complied, though he looked pretty reluctant about it. 

EJ snorted and next to him Mikko was trying to hide his laughter as a cough. “Well, I hope you’re just as cool on the ice,” Gabe said. It was a pretty lame comeback, but he could blame that on being distracted by Tyson’s stupid sweater. 

“Oh, I will be,” Tyson said. “Just you wait.” Gabe shook his head and went out to the ice. He liked to be the first one out on the ice - there really was nothing better or more calming than skates on fresh ice, and not even Tyson’s stupid grin and hideous sweaters could ruin that. 

On the plane on the way back from Tampa, Tyson leaned over the back of his seat to talk to him. “We should do a team holiday card,” he said. 

“Hey,” Nate said from beside Tyson. “I thought that was our thing.”

Tyson turned over his shoulder. “Posting it on Instagram doesn’t count, bro.”

“I’m pretty sure PR is making some kind of holiday thing,” Gabe said slowly. He wasn’t sure exactly what a team holiday card entailed, and he really didn’t want to be the one to organize it. 

“No,” Tyson said. “Like, we take a group pic and then send it to people. Friends, family, sworn enemies, whatever.”

“We already have a team photo,” Yaki said, leaning out into the aisle to join the conversation. “Wait…” He scrolled through his phone for a second, passing it to Tyson. “Here.” 

Tyson rolled his eyes. “This is our official team photo, Yaki,” he said. “We can’t use the official Twitter photo, and anyway, this isn’t festive at all. We need to look festive.”

“Well, at least you have enough sweaters for everybody,” Gabe said. 

Tyson leaned even further over his seat, his face right next to Gabe’s. “You wanna borrow my sweater collection?” he asked.

“No,” Gabe said quickly, cutting off the end of his question. “No, I really do not.” Tyson dropped back into his seat with a huff and Gabe thought he was mad at him, but a few hours into the flight he was kicking the back of Gabe’s seat just to annoy him so he figured he couldn’t be that mad. 

Gabe started counting the days in December in Tyson’s endless parade of ugly sweaters. There was the creepy Santa one, the creepier elf one, the one with a giant bow, and the one with Santa riding a unicorn in space. 

“Wow, Tys, did a Christmas tree fall on you on your way here?” Kerfy asked when Tyson walked in wearing a sweater covered in tinsel and ornaments.

“Look,” Tyson said, spreading his arms wide to let them fully appreciate today’s sweater. “I get it, you guys are jealous. Not everyone can have this much holiday spirit. It’s a tough burden, but somebody’s gotta do it.”

“Is it because you eat so many cookies?” Gabe asked. “Is that why you have so much holiday spirit?”

“Har har,” Tyson said, patting his stomach. “I’ll have you know that my abs are still here under all these sweaters.” Gabe didn’t doubt him - it was hard to hide anything when you’d been playing on the same sports team, changing in the same locker rooms, for years. He had to chirp Tyson about something, though, and all of his stupid sweaters spoke for themselves. Plus, he’d been chirping him about them all month long, and while Gabe usually wasn’t above reusing chirp material, he was getting a little sick of this whole thing. And if Gabe didn’t chirp him, then he might do something really stupid and tell Tyson he liked the way his whole face lit up when he saw the guys’ reactions to each of his dumb sweaters, or the way he blushed when he could sing all the words to the carols the PR team had them sing for videos last week. 

As December wore on, Gabe was really glad Christmas was less than a week away because that meant there was a limited number of new ugly sweaters he’d have to see Tyson wear. He wasn’t sure if it was actually possible to be blinded by terrible fashion choices, but he was starting to think it might be happening to him anyway. 

He waited until just about the last possible second to decorate his house for Christmas. He didn’t really see the point, not when his parents were staying in Stockholm for the holidays. He still put up the tree and strung lights around the bannister, making Zoey pose for pictures wearing reindeer antlers so he could prove to Tyson (and everyone else) that he didn’t actually hate Christmas. He even snapchatted the whole process of trying to get the antlers to stay on Zoey’s head, since she was pretty determined to shake them off every time he tried. 

At the Avs’ holiday party, Tyson showed up wearing the ugliest sweater yet. It actually lit up, so Gabe, or anyone, could see Tyson from anywhere in the room since he was literally glowing. He had bullied Nate into wearing an ugly sweater, too, though his was much more subdued in comparison. Gabe avoided him for a while for his own sanity’s sake, drinking too much mulled wine and also trying to avoid Lauren and Jared.

“Are you hiding?” Mikko asked when he found Gabe leaning against the corner of the bar. To be fair, Gabe had spent a lot of time at this party talking with both teammates and team sponsors and staff, so he figured he had earned a break.

“No,” Gabe said. “I’m just… not being social right now.” 

“Oh,” Mikko said, sliding onto the barstool next to him. “Sounds like a good plan.” Gabe raised his eyebrows, but Mikko just settled into his stool and smiled at him. Gabe clapped him on the shoulder and let Mikko order him another drink.

Of course, that was when Tyson, EJ, and Nate crashed through to the bar, all three of them talking loudly. Gabe was dumbfounded by Tyson’s dumb sweater in such close proximity. The lights blinked obnoxiously and at first, Gabe thought someone had turned up the music, but then he realized the sound was actually coming from the sweater.

“Holy shit,” Gabe said. There were just no other words for it. 

Tyson turned to him. Judging by how flushed his face was, Gabe guessed he’d been drinking a fair amount tonight, too. “What?” he asked. “Do you like my sweater, Gabriel?” 

“No,” Gabe said immediately. Behind Tyson, Nate and EJ laughed. 

“Well, that’s very rude of you,” Tyson said, honest-to-god pouting at him. 

“Why does it make noise?” Gabe asked. He was really struggling to understand why anyone, even Tyson, would want to wear that.

“Because it’s festive,” Tyson said. “Duh.” He picked up his drink from the bar and turned back to Gabe. “What do you want me to do, take it off?”

“Yeah, I do,” Gabe said, nearly wincing at how hoarse he sounded, how into Tyson taking his shirt off he clearly was. 

Behind Tyson, EJ threw his arm around Mikko’s shoulders. “Come on, Rants, let’s go say hi to Yaki,” he said, swiftly steering him away from the bar with Nate and leaving Gabe and Tyson standing there alone. 

“You want me to take my shirt off?” Tyson asked, grinning like this was part of the joke he’d been playing all month long. 

“Yes,” Gabe said simply. He licked his lips, ostensibly chasing the taste of the mulled wine he’d been drinking but really he figured now was as good a time as any to hope for a Christmas miracle. Tyson stared, watching him and then almost spilling his drink all over his sweater, which wasn’t the miracle Gabe was hoping for but was definitely one he’d take.

“Hold on,” Tyson said. “Are you serious?” He leaned close to Gabe, the high-pitched, whiny version of “Jingle Bells” ringing in his ears. 

“That sweater is hideous, Tys,” he said. Tyson took a half-step back with a quiet, “Oh,” looking dejected. Gabe smiled softly. Honestly, of all the people for him to have a crush on, it had to be the most ridiculous person he knew. He took a deep breath and allowed himself a second to wonder how the hell his life ended up the way it is before he said, “It would look better on my bedroom floor.”

Tyson’s eyes snapped up to stare at him for so long that Gabe was starting to worry he’d made a terrible mistake. “Are you hitting on me?” he finally asked, so quietly Gabe could barely hear him over that damn music. 

“Yeah,” he said, sounding a lot less confident than he was a minute ago. 

Tyson stared at him again. Gabe was a little afraid he’d somehow broken him, that Tyson would just collapse in a pile of tinsel and candy canes. He reached out to Gabe but pulled his hand back again, grabbing his own collar instead. He licked his lips and Gabe watched him, unable to stop thinking about kissing him. “Well then, do you wanna get out of here?” Tyson finally asked shyly. 

Gabe hadn’t been planning on leaving so early, but he couldn’t say no to that. “Okay,” he said. Some people might have been annoyed that he was just leaving with Tyson, but he’d see them all again in a couple of days, anyway. He led Tyson through the party, trying to ignore EJ, Nate, and Yaki waving smugly at them from across the room, but he didn’t miss the cheesy thumbs-up Nate shot at Tyson.

“Your friends are lame,” he said. 

“My friends?” Tyson said. “‘Your friends,’ he says, like they’re not all your teammates.”

Smiling, Gabe said, “Yeah, guess I’m pretty lucky to have such great teammates.” He didn’t realize Tyson stopped walking and just stared at him, turning around to see him standing next to a table, the candle on it flickering. That stupid sweater almost made him reconsider this whole thing, but he’d wanted Tyson for too long not to see where this went. “You coming?”

Tyson hurried after him, knocking their shoulders together as he caught up. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” he said, walking with his hands in his pockets. 

“Do you ever stop thinking about food?” Gabe asked. He knew it was just a phrase, but he couldn’t resist chirping him about his choice of words.

“Nope,” Tyson said, popping the ‘p’ sound obnoxiously. “You’re welcome to try and make me, though.” They were standing out in the parking lot now, still mostly full of cars and empty of people. Gabe couldn’t keep his hands to himself anymore - he reached out and trailed his fingers down Tyson’s arm, brushing his thumb across the back of Tyson’s hand. “My place is closer,” Tyson said, staring down at the point of contact.

“Yeah, okay,” Gabe said, but he couldn’t quite make himself let go. 

“See you there?” Tyson asked. The night was quiet around them and this whole thing felt suddenly, impossibly fragile. Gabe nodded, unable to find his voice. Tyson stepped back and walked to his car, glancing over his shoulder every few steps as he walked away. Abruptly, Gabe realized he was standing there, his fingers still tingling from holding Tys’s hand. He jogged back to his car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel the whole way back to Tyson’s. He didn’t even bother to turn on the radio. 

In Tyson’s driveway, Gabe sat in his car and wondered if this was a terrible decision. He looked up to see Tyson glance back at him, biting his lip, and realized he and Tyson had been moving towards this for so long that it felt sort of inevitable. He got out of his car and followed him inside. As soon as the door was closed, he pulled Tyson in for a kiss, letting Tyson push him up against the door so Gabe could slide his hands under that godawful sweater, pulling it up. The only problem with Gabe’s plan was that Tyson wouldn’t stop kissing him long enough for Gabe to pull the sweater over his head. Eventually, Gabe pushed him back a few steps so he could put some space between them and yank the sweater off. It clunked heavily when it hit the floor, but at least the music stopped. 

“You really hate my Christmas sweaters?” Tyson asked. Gabe couldn’t believe they were actually having this conversation when there were so many other things they could be doing. 

“That one? Yes,” he said. He took off his own sweater and dropped it on the floor on top of Tyson’s. Tyson’s hands were on him instantly, pulling him in for another kiss. He was giggling quietly as Gabe kissed him. “What’s so funny?” he asked. Tyson looked up, so Gabe did, too, and realized they were standing under mistletoe Tyson must have hung in his front hallway. “You’ve got to be kidding,” Gabe muttered. Just to spite him, he dragged Tyson a few steps forward by his belt loops and kissed him again. Tyson tried to push him back under the mistletoe and they ended up play-fighting and kissing their way up to Tyson’s room, losing more of their clothes along the way. 

Tyson fell back onto his bed and pulled Gabe down with him. Gabe was careful not to crush him, leaning down as Tyson blinked up at him. “Wait,” he said, mouth hanging open. “I - this is so dumb,” he muttered, turning his head to the side. “I’m a little drunk,” he said, words all running together. Gabe moved back before he even realized what he was doing, because Tyson was right. They had both been drinking, though Gabe was nowhere near drunk enough to not know what he was doing. 

“Wait, wait,” Tyson said again, grabbing Gabe’s wrists. “I’m not, like.” He breathed out heavily. “I have wanted to kiss you for so long,” he said, “and I’m definitely not going to wake up tomorrow and regret anything, I swear.” He blinked again, slowly, looking up at Gabe like he was still afraid he’d try to leave. There was no way he would ever leave, not with the way Tyson was looking at him, hands still loosely holding his wrists. “Shit,” he mumbled. “I wanna be sober for everything else. Sex, I mean. With you. If you want.”

Gabe shifted, turning his hands in Tyson’s grip so he could thread their fingers together. “Yeah, okay,” he said. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his lips. “Good call, Tys.” 

He smiled back at him. “I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked. “Did you just say I had a good idea?”

He kissed his way across Tyson’s cheek so he could press his lips to his ear, making him shiver. “Yeah, Tys,” he said. “Sometimes you have good ideas.”

Tyson rolled away, knocking Gabe’s arm out from under him so he fell on the bed. “Hang on,” Tyson said, reaching for his nightstand. “I need to write down the date so I never forget it.” Gabe grabbed Tyson’s outstretched arm and rolled him back. Tyson pressed his hand to Gabe’s jaw, fingers brushing his beard. They lay there, tangled up in each other and kissing. 

“Hey, Tys,” Gabe said. Tyson hummed, still pretty focused on kissing Gabe’s neck. “Do you need to go set out milk and cookies for Santa?” 

Gabe was laughing before Tyson even glared at him. “I hate you,” he said. “Shut up, it’s not even Christmas Eve.” He shoved at Gabe, trying to push him off the bed. “You’re such a Grinch.” 

“You’re just really obsessed with Christmas,” Gabe said. “Hey, do you have a whole closet for all those sweaters? Or is there, like, a secret room you have that’s always decorated for Christmas?”

“I’m not telling you, because you’re the worst,” he said, hands still pressed against Gabe’s chest, though he wasn’t really pushing him away anymore. “Take your giant forehead and your perfect hair and get out of my house.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Gabe said, smiling as Tyson’s hands slid up over his shoulders and pulled him closer. 

“No, it is,” Tyson said. “You really do have a giant forehead.” Gabe laughed as Tyson curled up against him, his head tucked under his chin. He’d be happy if he never saw another hideous holiday sweater again, though he supposed they weren’t really _that_ terrible - it had gotten him here, curled up with Tyson in his bed. He would never, ever admit it Tyson, though.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://segwins.tumblr.com)


End file.
